4 Times Movie Characters Didn’t See Super-Obvious Solutions
Here at Cracked, we're not against fun. And yes, we know that only people who are entirely against fun ever say things like that. But in this case, it's true! So when we run articles pointing out details that would more or less "break" a movie, we understand and accept the simple counterargument that without these idiosyncrasies, there would be no movie. And if there was no movie, then we wouldn't have anything to tediously pick apart, and we'd just be left alone in an unfurnished studio apartment, crying into an empty bag of beef jerky. And that's no fun -- which, remember, we seriously love -- so let's start distracting ourselves from our terrible, terrible lives! We mean, uh ... having fun!
Batman v. Superman: Dawn Of Justice -- Why Don't They Give The Kryptonite Spear To Wonder Woman?
Batman v. Superman, on top of being longer and less interesting than most real court cases, probably doesn't merit detailed scrutiny. For one, that would require us all to intentionally remember stuff from that movie, and for two, it feels kind of like bullying the Special Ed kids. But what's the alternative? Being alone with our thoughts?
You don't even want to know the kinky shit that goes on in there.
Superman and Batman eventually team up to take on the most dangerous "man" of all: MANKIND.
Oh wait, no. They fight a huge glowing-eyed monster named Doomsday. Which shouldn't have been much of a surprise to anybody. When you name your kid Doomsday, he's not going to grow up to be an accountant.
Though if you name him Doomsdai, he might turn out to be a stripper instead.
Doomsday is nearly invincible, but he does have one weakness -- an Achilles Heel, a chink in the armor, a metaphorical Kryptonite ... actual Kryptonite.
A danger to both Kryptonians and lazy screenwriters.
So Superman knows what HE and ONLY HE ALONE has to do: take one of Batman's Kryptonite spears and fly it right into CPA Doomsday's chest hole, even though it might kill Superman too!
The Obvious Solution:
Wait ... couldn't Superman have done anything else with the spear? The dude can throw objects into space, and it never dawned on him to try tossing the spear at Doomsday?
Like that time he used his powers to pander to r/atheism.
Also, why did Superman -- the only one of the three affected by Kryptonite -- have to be the one to stab Doomsday? Sure, maybe Batman throws like a girl, but Wonder Woman throws like a goddamn lady. She also has superpowers, but no weakness to Kryptonite, remember? All Superman had to do was hand Wonder Woman the spear, and there's the end of Doomsday. But that would mean letting a woman save the day, and we know how Superman feels about women ...
Though 1968 comic books did consider a female astronaut a possibility, so baby steps, we suppose.
Jurassic World -- Did Everyone Forget To Put Stun Implants In The Pterodactyls?
The park in Jurassic World has its fair share of problems. The budget is out of control, Chris Pratt keeps taking off his shirt and ruining the scientists' pants, and they gave their biggest and most vicious new dinosaur the ability to camouflage itself (because they hate life and all who live it). But at the end of the day, the park is what it is: a dinosaur murder island on which things should have gone wrong even sooner than they did.
Seriously, who is still insuring this place?
The Indominus Rex -- a dinosaur "sampler platter" engineered with qualities from a bunch of different animals -- smashes its way into the park's aviary, where about a hundred pterodactyls are hanging out, waiting to eat so, so many humans if they get the chance. The 'dactyls fly over a protective wall and wreak havoc on a crowd in the main park area. They swoop down and snatch up random patrons as they break for the exits, frantically trying to remember if they parked in the Stegosaurus Lot or the Ankylosaurus Lot.
The Obvious Solution:
The movie clearly explains that every dinosaur on the island has a tracker implant which can also stun them if they get too close to the perimeter fence.
Audiences do love subtle exposition.
The genetically engineered Murdersaurus is only a danger because the Jurassic World scientists -- who, again, hate life harder than Jean Paul Sartre -- made it hyper-intelligent, so the first thing it does is remove said implant, rendering the humans unable to locate or disable it. But the pterodactyls couldn't have removed theirs, because they're goddamn idiot bird monsters.
Unless, of course, the park creators simply forgot to put the implants in the pterodactyls? "Nah, they're fine. It would take some sort of huge, reptilian monster to break through the glass they're in, and I don't recall specifically genetically engineering anything like that in the last couple minutes or so."
"No, I don't plan on stupidly flying a helicopter into it, either. How would that scenario even come up?"
The Little Mermaid -- Write A Note, Ariel
Everyone loves The Little Mermaid, and not solely because it awakened their burgeoning fish fetish. It's the touching story of Ariel, a mermaid who's grown tired of everything the ocean has to offer by the age of 16, and so strikes a risky magical proposition that turns her human in order to pursue her true love, That Prince She Saw On A Ship Once.
Magic comes with a cost, and our protagonist gives up her voice in exchange for legs (and presumably other biological amenities not covered in the ultra-G-rated film).
Consider how long it took teenage you to get over masturbation and function like a normal human being. She had a song montage.
Voiceless Ariel now has to pursue her human love, all without being able to express her feelings, explain the situation, or partake in any of the usual first date discussions. ("So, you uh, caught up on Black Mirror?")
The Obvious Solution:
Ariel can't talk, sure, but she CAN apparently write, and in English at that. We know this because she signs her name on Ursula's contract:
You know, the one that clearly outlines the terms and conditions of the deal, yet somehow Ursula is still the bad guy.
So ... what the hell? With one note, Ariel could have at least explained that she was the woman who saved him earlier in the movie. Or maybe the Prince was illiterate, despite being royally educated, and had no servants willing to read him notes? Any way you cut it, there are some serious mental gymnastics required to back flip over that particular plot hole. And the filmmakers knew it. According to one of the animators, a little girl once asked a panel of people who worked on the movie why Ariel didn't just write everything down. Their response? "Next question."
Back To The Future -- Why Doesn't Marty Give Himself More Than 10 MINUTES To Save Doc?
In Back To The Future, Michael J. Fox plays an '80s teen named Marty McFly, who faces the relatable task of making sure his parents fuck back in the 1950s so that he won't get erased from existence after his best friend (90-year-old inventor Doc Brown) invents time travel and accidentally sends Marty to the past, where his own horny mother instantly tries to have sex with him.
"Taaaaaaaaaale as old as tiiiiiiiiiiime ..."
In the present, Doc is shot by some terrorists he ripped off, having built them a fake bomb out of pinball parts and stolen the plutonium they supplied him to make his time machine. You know -- science problems.
Marty constantly tries to warn Past-Doc about this impending doom, but Doc won't hear it, because he doesn't want to change the timeline. They take extreme caution to make sure everything in the past is unaltered, except now Marty wrote "Johnny B. Goode," his dad was visited by an alien who blasts heavy metal music, and every single person in his family is an entirely different person. But all that's totally fine. Yet history is RUINED unless one kooky hermit inventor gets gunned down in a parking lot.
Hey, Doc, you invented freaking time travel. We're positive if you talk to a university, they'll lend you some plutonium.
The Obvious Solution:
When Marty goes back to 1985, he only gives himself 10 extra minutes to save Doc. Why the hell would he cut it so close? We give ourselves a good half hour merely to take out the garbage. Budget your time better, Marty. And it's not like he was afraid of overlapping with himself, since even 10 minutes guaranteed that he would be in the same timeline with his past self.
"Seven minutes if I don't stop off for coffee first."
All Marty had to do was show up an hour earlier (or literally any other time), and explain the very straightforward situation to Doc: "They'll shoot you 40 times. Use a different parking lot."
Well, we guess then he'd also have to make sure that Past Marty still goes to the '50s, so as to make sure he doesn't erase the new timeline he created in which he warns Doc in the first place, which ...
"Good thinking. But what if they shot you in the face?"
You know what? Screw it. Time travel is too complicated. This movie's great.
Christopher is on Twitter, but he never tweets, he wrote a Brazilian Horror film called Quarto 38, and he makes terrible rap songs about fighting cults. Hire him to write and design your things that need to be written or designed.
For more movies it brings us no joy ruining, check out 7 Classic Star Wars Characters Who Totally Dropped The Ball and 5 Marvel Characters Who Totally Dropped the Ball.
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